


Wild Witch Woman

by flockofcrows



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Femdom, Light Bondage, Missing Scene, Orgasm Delay, Rivals to Lovers, Warden Alistair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flockofcrows/pseuds/flockofcrows
Summary: Alistair is trying to come to terms with his regrets before it's too late.
Relationships: Alistair/Morrigan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2020





	Wild Witch Woman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziskandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/gifts).



> A Femdom Exchange treat for ziskandra. I went with the "beyond the Dark Ritual" prompt, hope that's okay!

The sun was setting above Skyhold, slowly retreating behind the jagged edges of the Frostback Mountains. The flaring orange light almost burned Alistair's narrowed eyes but he had a hard time convincing himself to look away. It was potentially the last sunset he would ever see and he took his time to admire it as he strolled along the battlements.

He was also, on some level, just dragging his feet. He had meant to say his goodbyes early in the morning to be able to focus on preparations for the rest of the day, then he had convinced himself he still had time to drop by the garden once everything was ready. With the Calling humming and hissing behind his eyes, he now wondered if he wasn't better off forgetting about the whole thing.

A few minutes later, he was standing in front of a door above the gardens, wondering why his legs had even taken him there. He had ended up in the garden often lately, mostly to see Kieran, but he wasn't there for him now. He chalked it up to his approaching doom, took a deep breath, and knocked on her door.

There was no reply at first, and he thought about leaving, but then a pair of inhuman yellow eyes flashed behind her windowpane, making him freeze on the spot. The shadow inside moved too quickly, and his hand reached for his sword.

When the door swung open, Alistair braced himself to be tackled by some beast. He breathed a sigh of relief when Morrigan stepped out instead, back in her human form, clothes fluttering around her slender body. Her yellow eyes came to a rest on his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword.

"Alistair," she said coolly, eyeing him with suspicion.

He cleared his throat and let his hand fall to his side.

"I'm leaving for the Western Approach tomorrow," he said by way of greeting.

"I am aware," she said curtly. Alistair tried not to wince. She had called him a fool when he had told her what he was planning to do and left him gaping after her in one of Skyhold's many deserted hallways. He still wasn't sure why. "If you are here to see Kieran yet again, you are out of luck. He is being tutored."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

Faint surprise flashed across Morrigan's face.

"Wonders shall never cease..." she said, studying him with those penetrating eyes like she could sift through his thoughts.

"I'm as surprised as you are," he said. He had been paying Kieran visits whenever he was in Skyhold, never telling him he was his father, and trying his hardest not to dwell on how right it all felt. Things weren't going that well with Morrigan. They had been dancing around each other ever since their eyes first met in the gardens, making moments like this awkward at best. "I didn't want to leave without... you know..."

"You don't have to do this, Alistair," Morrigan interrupted him. "You don't have to care."

"He's my _son_. And... well, you're his mother."

"What has changed that you care now?" she asked with the arch of an eyebrow.

Nothing had changed, not up until he had lain eyes on Kieran; that was what had sent his head reeling. The boy apparently wasn't evil incarnate like he had feared and that made regret crash over him like a wave. Morrigan had watched his inner struggle with thinly-veiled interest just as she was watching him now, studying him like she would an insect she was dissecting.

"You're going to think I'm a fool but, I don't want to be the kind of father King Maric was to me."

Morrigan canted her head.

"You expect me to believe you had a change of heart about us just because you suddenly see yourself in him?"

"You keep saying you don't want to treat him like how your mother treated you but mock me for feeling the same way?" he asked and stepped closer.

She scoffed.

"'Tis different. We are hardly alike, you and I."

To his horror, Alistair wasn't so sure about that anymore.

"I am an apostate and you are a Templar," she continued and Alistair snorted. He wasn't, not anymore, not ever. "You are soft-hearted to the point of naiveté—" _Not anymore._ "—and you are a fool marching to your death for the sake of people who shall never care."

Now that might have been true, but that was his duty as a Warden. She had complained about that before, loudly and often, and he had thought her cruel for it, dismissive of other people, and yet he couldn't help the small pang of bitterness in his chest that told him he should have spent more time with Kieran, to fix what had gone wrong, to avoid repeating the past.

"You're right," he said, his shoulder sagging, and turned to leave. "This was a stupid idea."

"Wait," he heard her say.

He paused and looked back over his shoulder only to see her staring at him, one hand pushing the door to her room open.

"Come in if you please. Kieran might be back soon."

It was as wary an invitation as he had ever seen but he followed her inside anyway. The room was dark and smaller than he had imagined, utilitarian except for the shelves creaking under the weight of books, and dried herbs hanging above the door, their scent green and strangely familiar.

She stopped in the middle of the room and turned towards him, crossing her arms with a disapproving tilt to her shapely lips.

Alistair took a deep breath.

"Look, I have to do it," he said it like he was trying to convince himself rather than her, his teeth clenching around the words, desperate to hold back the bitterness welling up in him. He couldn't regret it now, couldn't ask for another chance, not when he had no way to change anything for the better.

She lowered her arms and her posture became more relaxed, more open. She got a look in her eyes that might have been genuine concern on anyone else but she hid whatever she was feeling behind her customary mask of disapproval.

"I have told you a decade ago, Alistair: people shall appreciate nothing you do for them. Life is going to tear you apart if you aren't cautious."

"Yes, now that I think about it, you did tell me," he said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He stepped even closer to her, lowering his voice. "But people still need help. I can't just decide to sit out the mess the Wardens caused."

She clicked her tongue, not one bit convinced by his sentimentality.

"So in your infinite wisdom, you have decided the world is going to be a better place with one less good man in it. Astounding, truly."

An amused smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Nice to know you care somewhere in that thorny heart of yours," he said. "Not a lot of people do."

She held his gaze, unwavering, but Alistair had no qualms about breaking eye contact to study her face. He had always wondered how someone so dangerous could be so beautiful. It hadn't seemed right at the time. He used to think beauty should only be paired with good and noble traits, not dangerous things like she was.

"You presume much just because we conceived a child in an act of desperation," she said. "It means nothing."

"It means a little something," he said. He wanted it to mean something. Something to live for, something worth coming back for, something as close to a family as he was ever going to get.

"This is why you are a fool, Alistair," she said with an annoyed sigh. "'Tis obvious what you truly desire and yet you leave to die for people you do not even know. Your lack of self-preservation instincts is infuriating."

He couldn't help the amused smile tugging at his lips.

"Careful, I might start to think you are capable of feeling worried for me," he murmured and leaned in to kiss her.

He would blame his approaching doom later. He had no time left to regret anything.

Morrigan gasped in surprise and put a hand on the cold metal covering his chest, pulling back a fraction to look at him with wide eyes.

"Shall this convince you?" she asked slowly.

He smiled sadly at her and shook his head.

"You know it won't."

He fully expected her to hex him and send him on his way but she closed the distance between them instead, her warm lips meeting his. He slowly wound his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. He cursed his armour for keeping him from truly feeling her warmth but she didn't seem to care, her hand settling on the back of his neck, pulling him closer and sending shivers down his spine. The desperation was familiar, the sense of his approaching end urging him forward to take the only chance he'd have.

Her hand carded through his hair, angling his head to the side to trail her teeth along his throat but the high collar of his armour blocked her progress. She pulled at the leather, finding the clasps aggravatingly sturdy so he helped her peel off his armour, discarding each piece without a hint of care as she walked backwards, pulling him with her. Her palms slid up his chest, impatiently brushing his shirt out of the way before she bumped into an armchair by the fireplace. She reached back blindly to steady herself with one hand and pushed at his naked shoulder with the other, urging him to kneel.

His knees gave out easily, his arms wrapping around her thighs, hands taking hold of her hips and ass as he pulled her closer to mouth at her stomach. A shudder went through him and he looked up at her, impatiently helping her shed her clothes, peppering kisses along her hip bones.

"You are so frustratingly gentle," she taunted and took a step back, lowering herself into the armchair.

"I could leave if you aren't having fun," he joked with mock hurt in his voice and leaned back on his knees to look up at her, not missing Morrigan's eyes trailing down his chest.

She drew up an eyebrow as if in contemplation and Alistair got a little nervous, jitters of worry and anticipation flooding him. She smiled, something dangerously satisfied shining in her eyes, and lifted her hand with a delicate flick of her wrist.

Alistair felt something snapping into existence around him, a rope of purple light wrapping around his wrists, legs, thighs, and down the V-shape of his hips, making standing up impossible. He blinked down at it with some confusion.

"Well, that's new."

"It makes you stay put and highlights some of your best features," she said with a lazy drawl and Alistair's eyes slipped closed as her shapely leg slid against the hard ridge in his pants framed by crisscrossing ropes. "Are you opposed?"

He gulped down an embarrassing gasp.

"Not if you keep doing that," he said on a strained voice, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her knee before he went back to mouthing at her inner thighs.

She hummed in the back of her throat, eyes closed and head tipped back in pleasure. Her sharp nails caressed the back of his head, pulling him closer, trailing down his spine and sinking deeper into his skin whenever he did something particularly well. Alistair groaned against her, forgetting all worries about how much his knees would hate him later on.

His daze only started to clear when her smooth hand settled on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. He stared at her longingly but she just shook her head and slid out of the chair, standing over him. She started circling him like she was trying to decide what to do with him, her fingers tracing over his muscles, sending shudders down his body everywhere she touched. He tried to move but the ropes held him back, biting into his flesh.

He groaned when the ropes tightened around him, then blinked in surprised when they snapped, melting out of existence. Morrigan smiled down at him like a cat and lifted a leg, pushing him on his back. Alistair almost lost his balance, only just catching himself on his elbow as she climbed into his lap. He moaned when she rubbed him through his clothes but she seemed too impatient to tease him, tearing at the laces of his pants until he was bared to her gaze. She smiled, entirely too satisfied, and lowered herself onto him with a tortuously slow movement.

Alistair's eyes rolled closed, his lips parting on a quiet moan as her warmth enveloped him.

"Sweet Andraste..." he whispered in awe as she settled into his lap.

She smiled and lifted a hand, her sharp nails trailing against his neck, coming to a rest on the apple of his throat. Alistair tried not to swallow but failed within a heartbeat.

"I don't want to hear you calling out another woman's name, not even if 'tis your god."

Alistair couldn't help but laugh breathlessly.

"If we're getting academic, she's more of a prophe—"

She shut him up with a kiss. She should have done that more often, maybe they could have learned to get along sooner that way.

Her fingers trailed up his chest and down his arms as she rolled her hips, her magic running across his skin in a shudder in their wake, warm pinpricks spreading along his shoulders and down his back. Alistair bit back a surprised moan and vowed to get back at her somehow if he survived his next visit to the Western Approach.

"Using magic like that should be forbidden," he bit out before he gasped, his back arching.

She smiled down at him smugly.

"And here I thought you no longer upheld your Templar convictions," she said and leaned down, lips sliding against the juncture of his neck and down to his collarbones, her hips rolling against him in a lazy rhythm. A delirious moan slid past his lips and her heat tightened around him violently, her nails digging into his shoulders. His hips bucked, his hands flying to her thighs, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he tried to get even closer to her.

"It would be _such_ a shame to end this too soon," she said against his lips, tone mocking as ever.

He had half the mind to remind her he'd be ready to go again in no time but he wasn't one to brag about his Warden stamina, and besides, he could barely concentrate on breathing, let alone talking, the air too warm in his lungs.

And then she chuckled, rising from his lap, leaving him cold and painfully hard.

"Evil witch," he spat and collapsed back against the ground, chest rising and falling heavily as he stared at her in accusation.

"I should leave you like this, hard and desperate," she whispered and leaned closer, her lips tracing his ear and the side of his neck. Alistair's eyes tried to flutter closed. The sultry tint of her voice was doing unspeakable things to him but he somehow managed to control himself, up until her warm hand closed around his arousal, caressing him with slow, firm movements till he was squirming, just barely keeping himself from falling over the edge. He briefly wondered if she was trying to humiliate him but she pulled back just in time to leave him aching for more. Her smug smile was infuriating yet so, so beautiful.

"'Tis for being a stubborn fool," she said.

"I've always known you loved to see me suffer," he said around a gasp, head rolling to the side.

"I do so enjoy watching you squirm."

And then she sat up, moving up and over him until she was straddling him, sinking down on him again, driving him mad and laughing in his face about it.

He gasped with each roll of her hips, his head thrown back against the ground, the flushed heat of his own body almost unbearable. She looked magnificent, wild and free with her hair flying around her face and sweat shining on her skin, just like she had during the ritual that gave them their son. He had been dazed as he was now, unable to tear his gaze away from her. Her eyes met his, an evil glint flashing in them before she took hold of his wrists, lightly pinning his arms above his head. A helpless noise tore from his throat and he arched his hips into her, eyes wide and disbelieving as his body shuddered with too much pleasure. Morrigan moaned above him, her rhythm stuttering as she followed him over the edge.

She tried not to collapse on top of him but Alistair reached up and pulled her against his chest, throwing a lazy arm around her waist. She went without her customary grouching, a wonderfully warm weight against him. It was scary how right it felt.

He was staring somewhere over Morrigan's shoulder, panting, not quite knowing what to do or say now that it was over. Morrigan moved first, lamentably taking her warmth with her, and Alistair winced at the cold and the pain in his legs suddenly assaulting his senses.

He stood up gingerly, flinching with every move as his knees protested. Morrigan was washing up by the vanity, still naked. His legs were taking him to her again, the warm carpet giving way to cold, hard stone against his feet. He hesitated, afraid she'd reject his touch just as she had done after the ritual, too closed off to tolerate anything _more_. He found himself drawing closer still, his hands settling warmly on her hips. He traced her neck with his lips, kissing her shoulder, the scent of herbs still strong on her skin.

She paused, completely motionless, but did not pull away.

"You are acting foolish again," she said and turned around in his embrace.

"Perhaps but I'm not going to regret this," he said and kissed her.

He waited for her to flinch away, to close herself off as usual but she didn't, settling into his arms instead for a lazy kiss. Alistair let himself appreciate every moment of it to its fullest, knowing he would likely never get to experience it ever again. He was surprised by the part of himself that wanted to stay for the night, stay for however long it took them to take down Corypheus, long enough to see Kieran grow even taller.

But his duty was to the Wardens first and so he forced himself to step back and pick up his discarded armour, putting each piece on pensively. It was less painful if he didn't get used to it.

The air outside had grown colder, the first stars appearing on the cloudless sky. Alistair watched them for a few seconds before turning back, surprised to see Morrigan standing in the door, apparently feeling courteous enough to see him out.

She watched with thinly-veiled curiosity as he reached to the small of his back, unhooking a bundle from his belt. He let it rest on his palm and presented her a dagger wrapped in blue brocade, the handle adorned with a small griffon, its wings spread wide at the crossguard.

"If I don't return, I want you to give this to Kieran," he murmured, not quite meeting her eyes. "Once he's old enough not to poke an eye out with it, I mean."

Morrigan seemed to hesitate, her hand lingering over the dagger, before she pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You could give it to him yourself after the battle," she said, scornful as ever, but Alistair could tell it was as close to her telling him to return safely as she was going to get.

He huffed around a smile and pushed the dagger into her hands anyway.

"Take care, Morrigan," he said and took a step back, holding her gaze, then turned and walked away before he could change his mind.

"Fool," he heard her whisper behind him and a pang of regret clenched his heart in a tight grip.


End file.
